Maybe we'll meet again
by We.Fear.Not.Death
Summary: Nathan and Pickles meet as kids. I was stuck on my other fic, and decided to write this. I do not own Metalocalypse. Rated T just in case.


**I've wanted to write this for a while. For a **_**looooong**_** while. Two members of Dethklok meeting as children. I'm stuck on my other fic and I decided that this would be short. Listen, just pretend like it's good, ok? If you like it then you should leave a review. Remember—Don't be a dick, be a **_**dude.**_

Pickles walked up the boardwalk of a beach in Florida, where is family was staying for a vacation. It was his brother's idea. Pickles wanted to go to New York, but his family never pays attention to him, never mind _listens_ to him. Ever since the incident, his life had been a living hell. He was waiting for his brother, Seth, to come back from the beach to buy him an ice cream. He was too busy talking to girls to even care about his little brother, who was melting in the heat of the smoldering sun. Pickles was headed to the ice cream truck himself, he had enough money for a rainbow pop, but he really wanted a strawberry ice cream cone.

Nathan was hanging around the beach, the place he hated most in town. He would rather stay in his room and read. His dad made him go outside every day, and no matter how much he resisted. He was sitting under a shady tree, reading a relatively short novel, when he seen a little redheaded boy who looked lost. He really didn't want to, but he left his book and went to see what his deal was.

"Hey. You. What's wrong?" He asked the boy.

"Huh? Oh, hey. Nuttin's wrong, ah'm just waitin' for my bro'der." He replied. Nathan nodded and stared at him. "What's 'yer name? I'm Dillon, but my friends and family call me Pickles. Nice 'ta meet ya!" He had a little half-smile on his face as he stuck his hand out for a handshake. Nathan just stared.

"I don't need friends." He replied. Pickles frowned as he slowly lowered his hand.

"So... Whaddya do 'fer fun if you don't got any friends?"

"Read."

"Readin's 'fer losers!"

"Well then, I guess I'm a loser." Pickles was confused. He's never met a kid who didn't want friends. Except for that one kid who sat in the corner of his 5th grade class and ate glue sticks.

"Um. Can I leave now? I was just wondering if you were lost. That's the only reason why I came over here." Nathan asked. Pickles cocked his head to the side.

"Can't you stay fer a little longer? Just 'til my bro'der comes back?" Nathan didn't want to stay, but he found the other boy's emerald green eyes fascinating- they were just like his own, but... different. He sat down on the boardwalk, so did Pickles.

"How do you do that?" Nathan asked.

"What?"

"Your eyes... How do you make them shine like that?" The redhead giggled a bit at Nathan's question.

"Everyone's eyes shine, dood! I just happen to be in 'da sunlight." Nathan shook his head.

"No, I don't know how to explain it... they just look so different."

"Are you sayin' 'dere's somethin' wrong wit' my eyes?!"

"No. They're different in a good way." Pickles looked at the ground and tried to comprehend what the other boy was talking about. He decided to change the subject.

"Why don't ya' like makin' friends? 'Dere 'da best!" He smiled, but smiles and happiness irritated Nathan like crazy.

"I don't need to share my own memories."

"'Dat's what mem'ries are all aboot, ahh... I didn't catch 'yer name,"

"Nathan. Nathan Explosion."

"Explosion? 'Dats a weird last name..." Nathan stood up and stuck a fist in Pickle's face.

"Say that again and I'll pound you!" He growled at the scrawny redhead. He was a little intimidated by the taller, slightly muscular boy. He had long black hair that fell just below his ears, and bright green eyes, maybe even greener than his own. Pickles was just a little thin boy with no fighting experience at all, he would easy be broken into a thousand pieces if he actually _did_ pound him.

"... Weird as in cool! I didn't know a person's last name could be Explosion!" Nathan sat down again. Pickles was being tortured by the blistering heat.

"How do 'ya stand it!" He panted as he fanned himself with his hand, trying to cool himself off.

"What do you mean? What can I stand?" Nathan replied.

"The heat! I don't do well with heat... I'm Irish, ya'know. We burn easy."

"Oh, you're from Ireland?"

"Nope! Wisconsin." Pickles laughed with a smirk. Nathan stared. Although this Pickles kid was a little off, he was actually easy to get along with. They continued talking about various subjects for the next half hour, until Pickles heard the footsteps of his brother up the boardwalk.

"'Das my bro'der. I gotta go now. Nice talkin' to 'ya, Nate." Nathan was about to tell him not to call him that, but was pushed out of the way by the older boy.

"Pickles, why are 'ya tahkin' to this little snotnose?" He asked the redhead.

"That's Nate. I was jus' makin' conversation, ya'know?" He replied. The older boy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, telling him something about how he would tell their mom that Pickles was drinking alcohol (again) if he tells her that he was hitting on girls. Pickles looked back and waved at Nathan.

"Bye'ya Nate! Maybe I'll see you some o'der time!"

The thought of seeing Pickles again made Nathan smile. It was the first time he smiled in two years.


End file.
